The Burned-Out English Major
Pound’s too heavy. Swift’s a slog.
Barker clearly is a dog.
Frost is cold—but Burns too hot.
Browning’s underdone. Gunn’s shot.
A.D.’s Hope is very scant.
Spender’s spent. Donne’s done. Cope can’t.
Fuller’s nearly empty, no?
e e cummings? e e Go.
Longfellow: the guy’s too long!
Dove won’t fly. Hill’s flat. Wright’s rong.
Washed out Bridges? Stay away.
Hardy’s sick and Gray’s, well, Gray.
Brooks’ just babble. Rich is poor.
Wordsworth isn’t. Less is Moore.
What Are You Made Of?
“How liberal is the University of Colorado at Boulder? The campus hot-dog stand sells tofu wieners.”
—The Wall Street Journal
Its demeanor marks this wiener
As a leaner to the left,
Bent on softening young hearts until they bleed.
You can tell it is a zealot,
Of fidelity bereft,
And of any sort of fiber students need.
A salami is a commie,
Uncle Tommy’s pretty sure,
Sausage linked to the extremists, sure enough.
We owe thanks, of course, to ranks of
Loyal franks of stuff that’s pure,
Those of only… well, of, you know, hot dog stuff.